


Find Yourself

by AutisticConnor



Series: Autistic Connor [3]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Autistic Connor, But it's okay, Connor is confused about some things, because he has friends n shit, request
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-20
Updated: 2018-06-20
Packaged: 2019-05-25 18:57:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14983463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AutisticConnor/pseuds/AutisticConnor
Summary: Connor has a bit of an realization and goes on a bit of a quest to find somethings out.





	Find Yourself

**Author's Note:**

> "I just finished reading both of your fanfics (which I LOVE BTW) and was wondering if you still take ideas because if so. Connor meeting someone else ‘like him’ and being curious about it. -F" -Anonymous on tumblr

“New case, Connor.”

Connor looked up from the desk. He’d been running his hands along with the grain after he finished all his paperwork, which didn’t exactly take very long for him. Hank was hovering over him and waving a folder.

“What is it?”

“Some humans have been robbing a buncha android stores.”

“How do we know they’re human?”

“They spew a lot of anti-android rhetoric while they ‘work’.” 

Connor tilted his head. “Why were we assigned to this investigation?”

“They just killed someone while they were at it. It ain’t specifically _homicide_ , but they specifically want you for this.”

He stood, adjusting his tie out of habit. “Alright. Where’s the crime scene?”

“Tea and coffee shop owned by a BL100 named Jenna.” Hank gestured to the door. “It’s a five minute drive from here.”

Connor took that as a cue to go ahead and go for the door. Hank, ever the I-must-be-slightly-more-competitive-than-you type, jogged to beat Connor to his beaten up car.

“I betcha I can beat two minutes to get to the scene.”

“Please don't. Traffic laws are in please for a reason.”

“Ten dollars.”

“I refuse to participate.”

“Fifteen it is.” Hank said. Connor grimaced and slid into the passenger seat.

Connor liked car rides, even if they were at a higher than legal, or logical, speed. The subtle pull of gravity when the first started moving, staring out the window at the street blurring past them until Hank's loud music was just background noise. He wouldn't mind staying like this for a while.

Hank stopped in front of an almost picturesque shop. Colorful baskets of flowers hung out in the front, surrounded by swirled designs resembling steam painted on the wall. The postcard image was only slightly ruined by the broken shop window.

Several people had been gathered into a small sitting area outside. Connor quickly scanned the group. Three android, two humans, none with criminal records. One of the androids appeared to be Jenna.

“The androids are the workers, and the humans are the people who were frequenting the place when the robbery happened,” Hank said as he stopped the car. “Jenna took over the shop when her owner didn't come back after the evacuation.”

He opened the car door and swung his legs out. Connor followed suit, taking another look at the witnesses. One of them-the human woman- was rocking back and forth and holding something in her hands that Connor couldn't see from his current angle.

“I think I'll talk to the witnesses first.” Connor's systems brought up a helpful list of which one would be best to talk to first.

“Really? Normally you want to get to the body so you can put blood in your fuckin’ mouth.”

Connor ignored him in favor of heading into the seating area. Jenna was fussing over her two workers like a mother hen to her chicks. The two humans sat in separate corners, suggesting they didn't know each other.

The human woman Connor had seen rocking was holding a small red spinner, staring as it spun and she kicked her feet. Connor stepped a bit closer and silently watched. 

“What are you doing?” 

The woman looked up at Connor, a bit wary. A little white box at the corner of his vision suggested she was tired and stressed. “I’m stimming.”

“Stimming?”

“It helps me process things better, regulate stimulation, express my emotions...”

A spark flickered at the back of Connor’s head. He blinked. “Why?”

“I’m autistic. I have problems with those things.”

He just… stood there, staring at the small toy in her hands. She flicked it and it started whirring as fast as Connor’s brain. That sounded. Right. Connor opened his mouth to ask another question when-

“Connor!” Hank called. “Take a break from interrogation and come take a look at this!”

He looked at her one last time to heading inside the shop.

“What were you talking to that lady about?” 

“I… Nothing important for the case. I was asking about her… Accessories.”

Hank nodded slowly. “Alright. Anyways, I got some shit for you to lick.”

* * *

Connor stared out the car window, drumming his fingers against his leg. He had been accessing more information about stimming and shifting through it. It all had the same feeling of _right_ like when he had talked to that woman. 

“Whatcha thinkin’ about, son?” Hank spoke up. Connor pulled himself out of his thoughts.

“The case,” Connor lied. “I’m trying to figure out how the offender got inside without triggering the alarm.”

“Careful Connor, you might be going machine again.”

Connor forced his fingers to be still. Hank was joking. He relaxed a bit again. “I think I’ll go see Markus tonight.”

Hank snorted. “Just going to change the conversation?”

“He might know about anti-android groups that might be targeting android businesses.”

“I’ll come too.”

“No.” Connor said a bit too quickly. “Many of the androids at the new Jericho location don’t trust humans still. Especially cops.”

He glanced over. Hank was squinting at him somewhat suspiciously. “Understandable. If you say so.” Hank turned his gaze back to the road. “I’ll drop you off.”

“Thank you.”

They rode the rest of the way to the abandoned apartments that had become the new Jericho in silence. Connor knew Hank didn’t trust the way he was acting. That was fine for now. He’d be able to explain everything later when he got back.

Hank pulled up to the curb just a block away from the black of apartments. Connor quickly checked his pocket, feeling a knot in his stomach loosen when he felt the cold metal of his quarter. He didn’t forget it this time.

“I’ll see you in the morning.” Connor unbuckled his seatbelt.

“Try not to miss me too much.”

He smiled as he pushed the door open. “I can’t promise anything.”

The last thing Connor saw before Hank pulled away again was a rather sad smile. 

He turned to the chain link fence blocking off Jericho. Connor always felt conflicted at this place. Markus had offered a room to him, and it had been highly tempting to accept. He ended up choosing to stay with Hank, partly to take care of him. They said they understood, but the offer was always open and he could visit whenever he liked.

Connor didn't visit as much as he'd liked to.

The guard android smiled when she saw Connor walking up. “I don't think I've seen you around here before. Are you coming to get a home?”

“I'm here to talk to Markus.” He paused. “It's somewhat important.”

She nodded. “He's up in his room. If you knock he should let you in.”

Connor nodded, waving awkwardly as he passed through the gate. Inside the actual warehouse was much cozier and inviting. Many androids had taken to the place with decor to make it homier. Markus himself had painted murals on the walls with color schemes reminiscent of the graffiti that led androids to the freighter of the original Jericho.

The elevators hadn't been repaired, so the trek up the stairs was going to be a long one. The stairwell was less polished than the rest of the building. Some of the walls were cracked, and a lot of the paint had been chipped off in large patches. The closer to the top, the more ragged it was. All the androids with damaged parts were kept on the lower floors to prevent them from climbing scores of stairs. It was a very Markus thing to prioritize the injured. 

When Connor arrived at Markus’s door, he couldn't help but notice all the debris in the hallway. All the others had been cleaned but this one…. Connor noticed all the doors except the one that led to Markus’s room had rubble in front of them. He lived alone on this floor. 

Connor knocked on the door three times. “Markus?”

The door opened almost immediately. Markus had that charismatic smile drawn across his face, as well as some blue paint. “Connor! Nice of you to stop by!”

“I guess… You're not doing anything?”

“No, no, not really. Why are you here?”

“I. Need to talk to you.”

The smile faded in favor of something more serious. “Of course.”

He opened the door further to allow Connor in. There was a painting on the wall next to the door, paint still fresh and wet. That must have been how Markus got to the door so fast. He closed the door behind himself and followed Markus to a room where there was a small gathering of chairs in a circle.

“Sorry about this. I try to keep my doors open if anyone ever needs to talk about something. Try not to step in any of the paint; I paint when I need to think but I forget to pick up sometimes.”

Connor settled into one of the chairs, hands folded in his lap. Markus sat down across from him.

“Alright, so, hit me.”

Connor jolted. “Why would I do that?”

“No, Connor it's a figure of speech.”

_”You know where you can stick your instructions?”_

_“No. Where?”_

He shoved away the sudden memory. “You're the android that understands the most about emotions and deviancy.”

“Well, I wouldn't say that, but I have spent a lot of time around deviants,” Markus laughed.

Connor chewed on the side of his cheek. “You are aware of the fact that androids have shown signs of depression, anxiety, PTSD and other mental illnesses.”

“Yes, we’ve been providing counselling to many of our people.”

“Well what about things such as developmental disorders?”

His system noted something akin to recognition flashed in Markus’s eyes. “Connor-”

 

“I spoke to someone during an investigation and it’s called some of my past behavior and habits into review,” Connor plowed on. “Things such as having difficulties understanding idioms and figures of speech, sensory processing issues, alexithymia, rigid-”

“Conor.” Markus said firmly. He held up his hands in a placating gesture. “Calm down.” 

“I am calm.”

“Your LED has been nothing but red and yellow since you got in here.”

There was a brief urge for Connor's had to fly up and touch his LED. “Oh. I see.”

“So just calm down…” Markus’s hands went back down to his sides. “And tell me what's happening.”

Connor closed his eyes, drumming his fingers against his leg again. He wasn't sure if Markus would appreciate hm playing with his coin, so this would have to do. Connor opened his eyes.

“I have the best sensory components on the market, but after deviating for some reason my processor can't always…” He searched for the right words. They weren't really there. “Keep up with them.”

Markus simply nodded when Connor paused to let him say something. “There were signs before deviating as well. I don't understand many figures of speech. I take them too literal, apparently. I still do this.” His leg started bouncing. This was new, but Connor didn't feel compelled to try and stop it. “There's other things too. Autism in humans is caused by genetics. I don't have genetics. I don't _understand_ how an android could have this.”

“Well…” Markus blinked. “Connor, what's a deviant?”

He frowned. “An android capable of experiencing emotions and free will.”

“Are androids _supposed_ to be able to do that?”

“No.”

“Do we understand a lot about this?”

“...No.”

Markus smiled. “I don't know how this would happen, especially with our limited knowledge on deviants, but what matters is that it's there. You aren't upset you're like this, right?”

Connor thought. Most of his experiences weren't new. The only _new_ thing he could recall was the sensory problems. No, that wasn't too new. He'd been playing with his coin for as long as he could remember. It just felt like… Connor. A part of him. “No. I don't think I am.”

“Good. Don't ever be upset about something like that.” 

Connor's leg slowed until it wasn't moving anymore. Markus spoke up once more. “I'm not sure if you'd like to be referred to as…” He trailed off, looking quizzically at Connor.”

“I want to be. I'm autistic.” Another feeling of _right_ rolled over Connor as he spoke. The feeling that this was _good_. “Thank you.”

“You're my friend, Connor. I'm glad you can talk to me.”

Connor wasn't the best with relationships or emotions but this must have been a good one. He smiled. “I should go talk to Hank.”

Markus nodded, standing up from his seat. “Of course. You're always welcome at Jericho, Connor.”

“I'll keep that in mind.”

* * *

The coin flashed as it twirled at Connor's fingertips. He had been standing at the doorway to Hank’s house for ten minutes and forty six seconds. There was no doubt that unless Hank had passed out or gone to sleep he knew Connor had been hovering there.

He caught the quarter between his fingers and slipped it into his pocket. No use in putting it off anymore. Connor opened the door.

“Welcome back, kiddo,” Hank said from the couch. There was a large mug of tea sitting on the end table, long since cooled down. “It was nice to actually be able to hear a game without your yammering.”

“Hank, I need to talk to you.”

He snorted. “Starting off strong. I like it. What do you need?”

“I- what do you know about autism?”

Connor waited for the signs of shock to play across Hank's face. It didn't come. “Nothin’ clinical but I've been around enough people with it to know a little.”

“Well I was talking to Markus about the possibility of androids… Specifically me… Being autistic.”

“Yea…” Hank cleared his throat, rising from his seat. “I was suspectin’ but I didn't know because of the whole android situation.”

Connor's fingers tensed. “You-?”

“It's okay, Connor. I kinda knew you weren't going to be talking to Markus about the case anyways.”

“How?”

“Your LED was yellow in the car.”

Oh. That seemed to be a bit of a give away for Connor. “You're not… distressed by this, are you?”

“What do I look like, some ableist asshole?” Hank walked over to Connor. “Besides, I've been living with you this long. Just because you've got a name for it now doesn't mean I hate you.”

Connor rocked back on the balls of his feet, blinking rapidly. He practically lunged forward and wrapped his arms around Hank. After a few moments of hesitation Connor felt the relaxing pressure of Hank hugging him back. There was happy energy buzzing under his artificial skin, telling him to move to get it out. But for right now…

The pressure was enough.

**Author's Note:**

> So like. I guess this was supposed to be a drabble prompt but I wanted to get Connor to accept himself because I need that in my life right now. If you can't tell that bit at the end is me trying to describe what it feels like when my body wants to happy stim but i'm _pretty_ sure I did a shit job. I'm also kinda. Hm. about Connor and Markus's conversation but whatever.
> 
> I can subsist on comments for a week!
> 
> Ask me questions/send me requests over @autistic-connor on tumblr


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